Reunion
by NancyMay
Summary: A longer than it should be short story. Jean's schooldays and friendships feature in this fic. I've never attended a school reunion, and have not really kept in touch with my school friends. But I feel Ballarat is quite a close community in parts and Jean would still have those she could rely on.


Born of a conversation with my son on bullying and peer pressure.

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Jean stuffed her hands angrily into her coat pockets. Thirty years on and Anne Goddard could still get to her. She stomped home from the Church Hall, the stars twinkled above her but they didn't lighten her mood, it should have been a pleasant evening, a chance to catch up with old school friends, but it wasn't.

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Ten days earlier:

Jean sorted the post into private for Lucien, practice letters and bills and private for her. Actually, there was only one for her and not from Christopher, for a change. She didn't recognise the writing, a practiced but elegant hand, or the postmark, as being from anyone she knew. Lucien's letter was from Mei Lin, she recognised the hand. Mei Lin wrote occasionally, updates on their granddaughter and the odd photograph. Jean was not jealous, the divorce had gone through relatively easily and she and Lucien were due to be married two months hence.

It was lunchtime before she got the chance to read her letter. she raised her eyebrows as she read the signature, Anne Simmons, nee Goddard. It was an invitation to a school reunion at the Church Hall, Ballarat in ten days time. Jean's shoulders sank. Anne Goddard had been the girl who had spread nasty rumours about the young Jean, stealing her boyfriends. Well boyfriends was a strong term really, Jean had the ability to be friends with quite a few in school, boys and girls, a naturally happy child who other children gravitated towards. Then Anne Goddard had joined the school; she didn't like it that she was an outsider, even though Jean had tried to make her feel welcome. Invited to join Jean's wide circle she had taken the opportunity to start insinuating that Jean was mean to her. Telling stories of how Jean had said unkind things. Jean's circle had become smaller, just those that had been with her since the first days at school stuck by her, not believing that Jean could be mean. And then Anne had accused Jean of spoiling her English composition, intended for the annual school competition. Jean had been called to the Head Teacher's study and the accusation put to her. She had denied it, why should she spoil somebody else's work? She had won the year before and the year before that, so she was happy that somebody else should win. But it had got around school and she had run home in tears, vowing never to write another story, and, apart from writing for her English lessons, she never had. That was not the end of Anne's campaign against the most popular girl in school, she made snide remarks about who had walked Jean home from school, suggested that Jean was, in her words, easy; by which she meant, would kiss any boy. Jean was the one girl who stood by her Catholic upbringing, her parents had made it quite clear they expected her to act with the utmost propriety, and she did, even if Christopher Beazley walked her home more than most, in the hope of even a peck on the cheek. The rumours had got to her parents and to the teaching staff and she had been made to feel dirty. She spent so much time in confession that the priest had had to go to her parents and tell them that their daughter was being bullied. They had finally realised what she was going through and told her they believed in her and that they would ensure she was safe and loved and supported.

Jean had put the past behind her, she had married Christopher, loved him, bore his sons, worked his farm, never complained, because that was what she was brought up to do. There had been times she had resented the struggles, the grind that the farm was, and the lack of romance in her married life, but it was her life and she was secure. Maybe not satisfied or totally happy, but secure. Then the war had come and everything had changed. They had rowed more than ever and Christopher had left, joined the army and been killed. It had taken her years to stop blaming herself, and it was only because Lucien had come into her life, and annoyed her, made her smile and laugh, intrigued her, included her and then loved her, and she loved him.

Now Anne was back, inviting her to a reunion.

'Penny for them.' Lucien's mellow baritone cut through her musings.

'Oh, it's nothing.' She lifted her head for a kiss, 'just an invitation to a school reunion. I don't think I'll go.'

'Why not? The chance to meet up with old friends...' He kissed her cheek.

'Mmm...friends, yes, old school er...'

'Not the best days of your life?' He sat next to her.

'No.' But she would not be drawn.

In the end she went, Dora Kelly, one of Jean's close circle and a victim of Anne's bullying, had persuaded her. They would go together, safety in numbers, she had said.

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Anne had greeted them at the door, looking every inch the politician's wife, all smiles and smart dress.

Well, Jean.' She smirked, 'how lovely that you could join us.'

Jean smiled, 'It's been a long time, Anne, how are you?'

'Very well, dear, very well. My husband is running for the Senate, so it's a constant round of gatherings, you know.' She shook hands with Dora, 'and Christopher?'

Jean swallowed, that was below the belt, 'Killed, serving in Malaya.' She held her head high, prospective Senator Simmons was a known service dodger.

'Oh, I'm so sorry.' She turned to greet more guests.

'That was mean.' Dora whispered as they moved away.

'Didn't expect anything else.' Jean answered. 'But at least it was an honourable death.'

During the evening Anne seemed to seek out Jean, or made sure she could overhear what was being said. Jean was questioned on her impending marriage to the good doctor, so Anne stored it up. She had made it her business to learn all she could about Ballarat, after all her husband needed to know who he could rely on, who had influence. A police surgeon would be good to bring into the circle, but who was Lucien Blake? Not a name she remembered from her time at school here. She resolved to collar Jean and interrogate her when she had found out more. She sought out her old group, she couldn't call them friends, just followers. They furnished her with all the known gossip about Lucien, how he had served overseas, been a prisoner of the Japanese, married and divorced a Chinese woman, was a thorn in the side of Patrick Tyneman and, to make matters worse for Jean, how he shared the house with her.

Anne made comments in Jean's hearing about strange Eastern ways, communist agents, divorcees, single women and single men sharing houses; all the while watching for Jean to react, and she did.

'If you have something to say, say it, Anne.' Jean confronted her.

'I don't know what you mean, Jean, but, dear, it doesn't look seemly, sharing a house with a single male, does it?' Anne smiled innocently, 'a divorced man at that.'

'I have nothing to be ashamed of, Anne.' Jean stood steadfast, her hands balled into fists, 'I know Lucien is an honourable man, a decent man, unlike some, who are happy to further their careers by sleeping with any woman that will lie down for them!' The silence was deafening as Jean strode out of the hall and headed home, only then could she let the tears fall. She did not hear the round of applause that greeted her words. Everyone knew that Anne had, shall we say, spread her favours far and wide, and it was known that her husband didn't confine himself to her bed!

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She threw the front door open and banged it shut again as she thrust her coat on the hook.

Lucien had heard her, the neighbours must have heard her, the way she banged the door. He put his head round the corner, tentatively and was devastated to see his love in floods of tears.

Jean saw him but didn't want him anywhere near her, at least that's what she thought. She stormed towards him, intending to go up to her room for the night but he blocked her way and caught her wrist as she tried to pass.

'Jean?...' His voice was soft and low.

'Leave me alone, Lucien.' She snapped.

'Jean.' He pulled her close, 'come on, tell me what happened.'

'Oh, Lucien.' He had this amazing capacity to calm her down, no matter how angry and upset she was, 'it was awful. Anne made nasty comments about...'

...and it all came out, everything that Anne had intimated, and how Jean had reacted. All the while Lucien stroked her head and kissed her gently, like the breath of a breeze that moved the leaves on the trees.

'I'm honoured that you think I am honourable and decent, considering I have enticed you into my bed, and that I cause trouble with the police and Patrick, to name but two.' He tipped her face so he could look into her beautiful eyes.

'Yes, but everything you do is for a reason, a good reason, to help others, and as for enticing me into your bed, if I didn't want to be there I wouldn't be. We are to be married, and, as far as I am aware, I'm not in a queue of women.' She arched an eyebrow thinking she had not phrased that very well.

'No, sweetheart, you are not in a queue; since Mei Lin, you are the first.' He kissed her again, she liked his whisper soft kisses when she was upset, or anytime really, but especially when she was troubled, they were so soothing.

'Come on, let me see if I can make you feel better.' He smiled that certain smile, the one that made her so very sure of his love.

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Lucien just held her and kissed her until she fell asleep in his arms. Why were women so intent on hurting each other with their petty comments? At least men could slug it out and then go for beer afterwards. Simmons was running on a health care ticket and was to open the new wing of the hospital and he had to attend the ceremony. He had planned that Jean should go with him; she would attend these occasions with him when they were wed; and when he suggested it she had agreed. He decided that in the morning he would tell her she did not have to attend if it was going to make her uncomfortable.

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Jean put his breakfast in front of him and as she withdrew her hand he caught it and kissed it.

'Jean,' he looked up at her, 'about the opening ceremony. If you feel uncomfortable about being there, that's alright, you don't have to come with me.'

'And let Anne Simmons thinks she's won.' Jean smiled at his sensitivity to her feelings, 'I thought you knew me better than that, Lucien.'

'Yes, but...' He didn't want a scene. That was his job!

'I'll attend and show her that you are the honourable and decent man I told her you are. So no upsetting Patrick.' She finished up the warning with a kiss on the top of his head and carried on serving Charlie's breakfast, as he had arrived in the kitchen at the end of the conversation.

'Morning Charlie.'

'Morning, Jean, doc.' He sat down, 'why would you upset Patrick today, doc?'

'Well, it's not a plan, Charlie.' Lucien said, 'it's just it's the opening of the new hospital wing today and Jean has history with Simmons' wife. I think what she means is that if I don't upset Patrick she won't make a scene with Anne Simmons.'

Charlie had never seen Jean 'make a scene'. He'd heard she could but always seemed to hold her tongue unless her own were maligned.

'I'm sure Jean will be the model of a respectable woman, and fiancée of a police surgeon.' Charlie noted, he would be there on the security detail.

'Thank you, Charlie.' Jean sat down to eat her own breakfast. She still wasn't looking forward to it, even though she had won the better man.

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Jean knew how to dress for the occasion and she didn't let Lucien down in that respect. She wore a smart suit, in a subtle shade of the green that Lucien liked, that showed off her trim figure. Her gloves, shoes and handbag complemented the suit. Anne Simmons could say what she liked, she would be with Lucien and he always made sure she was protected from the worst anyone threw at her when they were at a function. It was rare that anyone said anything when she was accompanied by the doctor, but Anne Simmons had been away from Ballarat too long to know this 'unwritten rule.'

The new wing was teeming with everyone who was anyone, and then some, in Ballarat. Mr and Mrs Simmons were introduced to Dr Blake and Mrs Beazley.

'Oh, Jean and I go back a long way.' Anne breezily announced, 'we were at school together, weren't we, Jean?'

'We were.' Jean shook hands with Arthur Simmons, she knew him, but he had left Ballarat as soon as he left school and he wasn't one of her circle of friends. She had forgotten him until now, he'd tried it on with her, once, when she was about fifteen. She smiled as if in greeting, but inside she was remembering that Christopher had defended her honour with his right fist.

'I'm so glad you could come, Jean, and how nice to meet you Dr Blake,' Anne continued her ingratiating greeting, 'I've heard a lot about you.'

'A pleasure, Mrs Simmons.' Lucien replied, shaking her hand. He felt a little more pressure on his forearm from Jean, 'Mr Simmons.' Lucien escorted Jean away, towards Matthew, all dressed in his finest uniform, and Alice. Jean relaxed while she was in their company, and was pleased to see Dora in the throng. She managed to get a word with her, to find out what had happened after she had left the church hall.

'Oh, Jean.' Dora grinned, 'everybody gave you a round of applause, you should have seen Anne's face, it was a picture.'

'Mustn't gloat, Dora.' Jean smiled back, 'but it's nice to know I have the support of old school friends.'

'You do.' Dora squeezed her elbow. She had her own reason to hate Anne Simmons. She had trained as a nurse at the same hospital Arthur had trained as a doctor, which is why he was running on a health care ticket, they had hoped to marry, but Anne had stolen him away. Dora had dedicated her life to her career, never married, no one had caught her eye like the young doctor.

As long as he could see Jean, Lucien was content to let her mingle on her own, he knew she had friends and they would see she was protected from the vicious remarks of Anne Simmons. It amused him to see her, she looked more suited to the position than Anne did. Sure Anne's clothes were expensive, although Jean's suit wasn't cheap, but somehow Jean carried her elegance better. His attention was suddenly taken by Geoffrey Nicholson, asking what he thought about the new wing. When he turned away, having giving his approval he had lost sight of her. Scanning the room he saw Anne talking to her; Jean's back was ramrod straight, but from his angle he couldn't see her face.

Dora passed Anne at the same time Lucien was looking for Jean, she was close enough to hear what Anne said, and it wasn't kind.

'Well, Jean, you seem to have claimed a bigger prize this time.' She smirked.

'Sorry, Anne, I don't know what you mean.' Jean was calm and innocent.

'From farmer to doctor and police surgeon. Quite a step up.' Anne continued to needle Jean, she wanted a reaction like she had had at the reunion but Jean was not so easy this time.

Jean did not rise to the bait, 'Yes, well, I suppose I'm just lucky.' She made to walk away.

'Good, was it? You're marriage to Christopher.' Anne was not going to give up.

'Thank you, it was.' Jean agreed. Anne, nor anybody else for that matter, did not need to know that 'good' was about all it was. But at least Christopher hadn't abused her or gone off with other women.

'You know he 'practiced' before your wedding, don't you?'

Jean was under no illusion that Christopher knew what he was doing on their wedding night, while she was a complete novice, but she didn't like where this was going, where, oh where was Lucien?

'Yes, with me, the day before.' Anne smirked again, seeing Jean's face begin to lose colour, 'not really worth the effort, if I remember, rightly.'

Dora had heard everything, and 'accidentally' knocked Anne so she dropped the cup of tea she was holding. This was Jean's opportunity to get away and she did, through a door to a corridor that ran to the back of the hospital. Lucien just caught a glimpse of her retreating back and squirmed his way through the mass to follow her. Out in the corridor he saw her run outside and caught up with her as she was vomiting into a drain.

'Jean, oh Jean.' He put his arm round her, 'I lost sight of you, I'm so sorry.'

She leant against him and let the tears fall.

'Home,' she gasped, 'just get me home.'

Lucien supported her to the car and drove her home, whatever Anne had said to her had hurt her so much but he would have to wait for her to tell him.

He guided her to the couch and sat with her waiting for her to be calm enough to talk. He made some tea and persuaded her to drink some before she spoke.

'I'm sorry, Lucien. I told myself that whatever she said to me I would not listen to her.' Jean sniffed, feeling foolish, 'but she was mean, about us and about my marriage to Christopher.' Lucien stroked her shoulder and waited.

Jean told him what she had said about Christopher the day before her wedding and how she had seemed so pleased with herself.

'I knew I wasn't his first, that was obvious on our wedding night, but it was the way she was almost gleeful as she told me, and then said it wasn't worth the effort.' Christopher hadn't been a great lover, but for the inexperienced Jean he was gentle and kind, if more concerned with his own pleasure.

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Dora apologised profusely for knocking Anne's hand and helped her wipe up the splashes. She noticed Jean leave the room and saw Lucien manage to follow her.

'I'll get you some more tea, Anne.' Dora went off and eventually returned with the fresh beverage.

'Sorry for the wait.' She smiled, 'such a crowd.'

'Thank you, Dora dear.' Anne smiled, sweetly. Dora smiled back and headed off to see to drinks for the other guests.

Suddenly there was a scream from the middle of the room. Everyone turned to see a circle of people looking down at the floor. Matthew and Alice were first there, Anne Simmons was on the floor gasping for breath, clawing at her throat, skin red and blistered round her mouth.

Alice knelt beside her, 'Allergic reaction, by the looks of it.' She looked up, searching for Arthur Simmons, 'Is your wife allergic to anything?'

'Er...penicillin.' He looked on in horror.

Alice took charge, shouting for antihistamines, steroids and a trolley to get the woman into a room. She knew that Anne's throat was closing up and if she didn't get the right treatment now she would die. Geoffrey Nicholson joined her and the two worked in harmony to try and stabilise the patient. Alice performed an emergency tracheotomy in a desperate attempt to get air into Anne's lungs but the reaction had been so severe it was all to no avail.

Alice looked at her watch, 'Life ended four fifteen pm.' She noted it on the chart. 'How was she given penicillin?' She looked at Nicholson.

'There are blisters round her mouth, must have been in her tea.' He suggested.

'Then, it was deliberate?' Alice questioned the thought.

'Looks so.' Nicholson knew that Blake would be called in to do the autopsy so they both arranged for Anne's body to be taken to the morgue, after her husband had been allowed in to see her.

'Thank you for your efforts.' Simmons whispered, but to Alice he didn't seem that upset.

Alice went to report to Matthew, telling him it looked like a deliberate act and that he was probably looking for a murderer.

'Anne wasn't the most well liked person in Ballarat when she was a girl.' Matthew had been her target once, but he'd dodged her. He didn't like forward women. 'She bullied a lot of the girls, stole their boyfriends.' But Matthew would not say what he knew about Jean's relationship with her, he'd see her himself. He'd been one of those who occasionally walked Jean home, until it became obvious she was taken and he had bowed out gracefully.

'Where's Blake?' Matthew suddenly realised that Lucien was not involved in the attempt to save Anne's life.

'Er...Superintendant.' Dora had heard him, 'I think he took Jean home, I think she was taken ill.'

'Jean, ill?' Alice looked surprised. She'd seen Jean and Anne together before Anne collapsed. She pulled Matthew aside and told him.

'How long before?' Surely Jean hadn't resorted to murder.

'At least fifteen minutes. I think Anne dropped her tea and Jean left. She didn't look well.' Alice told him that Anne's reaction was instant, there was no way Jean could have poisoned her, she'd been gone too long.

'Right, I'll speak to her.' Matthew whispered, 'keep it to yourself until I say otherwise.' He gathered his men and told them he wanted names and addresses of everybody, fingerprints as well. Nobody left until all the information and evidence was gathered. The room was sealed and by midnight all the work was done.

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Lucien opened one eye, who the hell was knocking at this time of night? Jean stirred in his arms. It had taken time for her to calm down, Lucien had insisted she eat something and although his cooking skills weren't up to much he could make a fairly decent sandwich. He'd taken her to bed and loved her, told her she was beautiful and she was the only one for him. The knocking became insistent so he disentangled himself from his love and went to answer the door.

'Matthew,' Lucien stepped aside to let him in.

'Sorry, Lucien, I know it's late but I need to speak to Jean.' Matthew turned his hat round in his hands.

'Can't it wait until morning, Matthew? She's asleep.'

It didn't occur to Matthew how the doctor knew his fiancée was asleep, he just took it as a statement of fact.

'It is important I clear up one question as soon as possible.' The superintendant didn't want to disturb Jean but he knew it was the first piece of the puzzle and the only way he could eliminate her from his enquiries.

'Lucien?' Jean stood in the hallway, blinking in the brightness of the electric light. She had her robe on over her nightdress and her loose curls framed her face. To Lucien she looked adorable, and even Matthew had to admit she was still a very pretty woman.

'Jean, I'm sorry to wake you,' Matthew went towards her, 'I need to ask you a question about this afternoon.'

'Shall we sit down, then.' She headed towards the living room. If Matthew wanted to ask questions it must be important. She sat on the couch and Lucien sat next to her, putting his arm round her shoulders. Matthew stood in front of them.

'Jean, you left the hospital early.' Matthew started, he was finding harder than he thought he would.

'Yes.'

'Do you remember what time?' He asked.

'Three thirty. The church clock was striking the half hour when I...'

'When you what, Jean?' Matthew looked at her, she seemed embarrassed.

'When I was being sick into a drain, outside.' Jean looked up at him, her eyes were shiny with tears. The memory of what Anne had said was too fresh in her mind to hold them back.

'I was with her, Matthew. What is this all about?' Lucien asked.

'Anne Simmons was murdered, she died at four fifteen this afternoon.' Matthew informed them. 'She was given penicillin, which she was allergic to, and collapsed. Dr Harvey reckons it can't have been more than fifteen minutes between the drug being administered and death. I'm sorry, Jean I had to rule you out of the equation.' Matthew crouched down and looked into her eyes.

'I know you and Anne didn't see eye to eye, Jean. So you understand I had to ask.'

'She slept with Christopher the day before our wedding. She took pleasure in telling me today, and that it was not worth it. She made my life hell at school, turned my friends against me and tried it on with every boy that walked me home.' Jean's voice held no emotion when she spoke, it was flat, sad.

'She tried it on with me, too.' Matthew wanted to assure her he'd been targeted too. 'Not my type, too forward.'

'Really?' Jean looked up.

'Yes, when _I_ walked you home.' Matthew smiled, just enough to let her see he understood. He stood up and apologised for waking them. He told Lucien that Alice proposed to start the autopsy in the morning and left.

Lucien turned off the hall light and went back to the living room. Jean was sitting as he had left her, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. He went and crouched down by her side, she turned her head and leaned over so her forehead touched his.

'Take me back to bed, Lucien, I'm tired.' He stood then lifted her up and carried her back to their bed.

'Is it wrong, Lucien?' She murmured, 'that I don't feel sorry that she's dead?'

'Given how she treated you, both when you were at school and recently, no.' He kissed her forehead. 'Now sleep.' And he wrapped his arms around her.

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Matthew, Bill and Charlie started to interview everyone who had been at the hospital. Matthew was not surprised to find that Anne was unpopular in Ballarat. She had flirted with most of the women's husbands at sometime in her life, been intimate with quite a few and walked over many people's feelings in her effort to be someone. Nobody held back in their stories about Anne Goddard, as was. Dora Kelly was honest about her stealing Arthur from under her very eyes and admitted she hated the sight of the woman.

Lucien and Alice completed the autopsy and their findings were as Alice had thought. Death was due to the ingestion of penicillin which caused a violent allergic reaction. They found traces in the stomach contents and concluded it was administered in the tea she drank.

'She really was a dreadful woman, wasn't she?' Alice remarked as she pushed the body into the mortuary fridge.

'Alice!' Lucien was surprised, she wasn't a lifelong resident of Ballarat, so how would she know.

'Oh she had a pop at me too.' Alice hung her lab coat up. 'Apparently being a pathologist isn't an attractive post for a woman, no wonder I'm single, that's what she said.'

'Depends what you want in a woman.' While Lucien had been digesting this fact, Matthew had walked in and passed his remark. Bearing in mind that he and Alice had managed to keep their blossoming romance off the radar.

'Indeed, Matthew, indeed.' Agreed the good doctor, not understanding at all!

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Lucien opened the front door to be greeted by the aroma of one of Jean's delicious dinners. When he'd left that morning she'd been quiet but assured him she was fine. Looked like she was back to her usual self, at least he hoped that was what it meant. He hated it when she was hurt or upset and he would always try his best to make her feel better. Most of the time he got it right. He walked into the kitchen and there she was, setting the table, singing to herself along with the radio. She looked up and smiled and his heart melted.

'Lucien, you're back.' She moved round the table to kiss his cheek. 'How was today?'

He returned the kiss and told her what they had found during the autopsy, he also told her Anne had targeted Alice.

'No one was safe from Anne Goddard.' She noted, 'personally I wouldn't have been vile to Alice, she can be cutting, herself.'

'I don't know what Alice's reply was, but as you say, it was probably quite cutting.' Lucien grinned and went to read the evening paper until dinner was ready.

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Matthew and the men down at the station spent the next few days trying to match up fingerprints with those on the cup Anne had taken the drugged tea from. Those that didn't match were put with the statement of that particular suspect and that person was taken off the list.

Lucien and Alice helped Simmons arrange for Anne's body to be taken back to Melbourne where her funeral service would be held. After a decent period of mourning he would continue on his mission to be elected to the senate. He and Anne had not been blessed with children, he'd said, it was one of their sorrows.

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Matthew and Charlie sat one side of the table in the interview room, fingerprint charts and statements of two women in front of them. They interviewed Evelyn Toohey first. Her fingerprints were on the cup, and in fact were on a lot of the cups. Evelyn sat and answered every question quietly and politely. She had nothing to hide, she said. She hadn't known Mrs Simmons, she'd come to Ballarat later in her life, to be housekeeper to Father Morton.

'I was there to help with the refreshments. I would have touched many of the cups.' She told them.

'Did you see Mrs Beazley leave the gathering?' Charlie asked.

'Yes I did. She looked upset. I called after her but then I saw Dr Blake follow her so I assumed he would look after her.' Evelyn, while aware of the gossip surrounding the pair, had every sympathy for them and considered them a good couple.

'Thank you, Mrs Toohey.' Charlie got up and ushered the woman out.

Dora Kelly was next. Less composed than Evelyn and the first time she had been interviewed she sat opposite the two officers. She was asked the same questions about the cups, then about Jean.

'Yes I saw her leave.' Dora admitted, 'Anne had been perfectly horrid to her. Telling her she had slept with Christopher the day before their wedding, and that it wasn't worth it. I heard everything. Poor Jean, she was devastated.'

'How did Mrs Beazley make her excuses to leave? She wouldn't just walk away.' Both men were aware of Jean's views on bad manners.

'Anne dropped her cup so Jean used it as a means of escape.' Dora smiled at the memory of her part in Jean's departure.

'What did you do next?' Matthew was sure he had his killer, but he needed her to incriminate herself.

'I picked up the pieces and helped Anne to wipe up the splashes.' Dora's face was impassive, 'I put the broken cup in the bin.'

'How was it that Anne was holding a cup of tea when she collapsed? Did you fetch her another cup?' Charlie was thinking the same way as Matthew.

'It took me ages to get through the crowd.' Dora would not be drawn.

'You added penicillin to Anne's tea, didn't you?' Matthew's voice was low now, threatening, 'you knew Anne was allergic because you had been on the team that showed them round the new wing. Mr Simmons mentioned that you had showed how the penicillin was kept and Anne had taken a step back because, and she announced this, she was allergic to the drug.'

'She deserved to die.' Dora spat the words out, 'she spent her life taking everything from those around her. Arthur from me, Jean's friends at school, tried to take Jean's reputation, then to tell her she had slept with Christopher, and I saw her eyeing up Dr Blake, well no more. She wasn't going to take happiness from anyone else. Yes I killed her, and I'm glad.'

Dora was led away to the cells. Matthew would arrange her transfer to Melbourne to be tried.

'Tell Jean not to come and see me. I know she'll want to, she's like that, kind.' Dora called back as she turned the corner to go down the stairs.

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'Can I see Dora?' Jean asked quietly.

'She asked that you don't, Jean.' Matthew held her gaze, 'I don't think she wants you to think ill of her, she was angry and finally reached the end of her tether I guess.'

'I feel guilty. I didn't know she'd heard Anne, she did it for me and to stop anyone else being hurt.' Jean sighed. 'Tell her I am sorry she felt she had to do this, Anne would soon be gone from our lives again, if I'd known what she planned...'

'I don't think you could have stopped her, Jean.' Matthew touched her arm, 'you and she have been friends forever, she would never have told you.'

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Jean handed Lucien envelope the following morning. He'd wondered what she had done when she had sat in the study the previous evening, asking for some time alone.

'Will you see Dora gets this, please.' She looked at him, tears stung her eyes, she'd spent so much time crying lately she hoped she could stop after this, 'I know she won't see me, but I've written down what I want to say to her. I can't stop being her friend, it's been too many years.'

His goodbye kiss was longer and deeper that morning, he loved this forgiving, gentle but strong woman he was going to make his wife.

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I like to think that Jean has a few really close friends from her schooldays, and that she would have been a popular girl. The idea of Matthew walking her home came to me as he appears to be forever single, perhaps he missed out, twice, once to Christopher and obviously to Lucien, but he would always be her friend.

Anyway, got to give the Ballarat gang something to keep them going, now, haven't I?

Reviews and comments welcome as always.

Chin up, folks!


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